Inner Woman Volume 2
31 Nostalgia

Way back when

Halloween Apples

was the cry as short legs

bounced up concrete steps

The slender sickle silver slice

hangs above the horizon

the moon is waning

from a day gone by

his face hidden from

all below

Ghosts and Goblins run from

house to house

on the inner crescents of

suburb paradise

Parents stand

in doorways watching

their precious little ones

safe, secure.

The littlest go first,

unspoken rules

toddling in costumes

thicker than the cold

The later in the night

the older the kids till

last shouts

of trick or treat

echo under streetlights

bright

And when the loot was sorted

candied apples were there

crisp, juicy, sweet, hard sugar shell.

Sugar cookies, candy, toffee,

chocolate galore

and of course

Homemade popcorn balls

caramel crunchy fluff

tooth yanking orbs of

irresistible temptation

Till the day the first

razor blade found

in a bloody bite

Made Halloween Apples

A past delight.

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